


Greet

by hallulawy



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Fluff and Angst, M/M, a bit of an AU, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallulawy/pseuds/hallulawy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This isn’t their first meeting, but to Will it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greet

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if this isn't good enough, it just popped into my head. I've been drawing (my doodles are on my tumblr)and struggling and working on the second chapter, so this may or may not be a mess.

* * *

 

‘Have we ever met?’ Will Graham rasps, his eyes clouded behind the thick lenses and his gaze fixed under the doctor’s eyes. His features aged and almost wanly looking, but not from malnutrition or malady, the doctor thought. From something that occurs perpetually in this somber being’s mind eye that grows and resembles a behemoth of horror.

  
The doctor stares, wonders, and look.  


 _He adapted this_ _, after their last meeting._  


The distance between them is too great, he could not cup the bestubbled jaw from here. As much as he loathes the facial hair for adding the grim on the man, he dislikes the thickness of the wall even further, built so naturally by the other.

_Or was it him?_

The younger male took no pretense on waiting for a reply. He shambles towards the patient’s couch, and sat on it after short and intense consideration on the harmless furniture. It is as though the leather seat would transcend into something else, and consume the agent in a blink of an eye.  


As if Hannibal would allow it.  


He looks at his patient -his  _patient_ \- from the distance, and reminds himself it is unethical for him to mingle personal affairs with his profession, and certainly unbecoming of him to feel the throb of his heart as he observes how Will just instinctively shrinks himself in the spacious seat just as he fiddles with the hem of his ragged plaid flannel.   


_He still does it._  


The young man who he endearingly called a boy sometimes. He teases him just to see how the furrow of his brows and the pout of his lips fade into thin air as he pecks the rosy cheeks with such care. And then came the mirthful laughs and pushing hands, when the pecks transfigures into loving nibbles, noisy coos with large hands trapping the smaller body, never to escape.

  
_And yet he ran as he open the cage, a pretty housepet that forgot everything they ever had._

Hannibal tries far too hard to retain a blank expression through his crumbling mask, too hard to suppress the increasing urge to hold the curls in his hands, to kiss the forehead and whisper sweet murmurs to the ear. He wants to see how the boy -man now- chortle at his satirical humour again, and wheeze as he kneads and fondle the soft sides of the slender body. He wants to listen to the soft gasps, the delighted moans again as he eat the meals specially prepared for him - _and only him_ -, and how the slide of their body, slick with sweat, play the soft melody of carnal pleasure, again.  


He wants to feel, or to merely see his firm jaw smooth with youth and maybe lightheartedly bristled.  


He wants to listen the call of his name again, to hear him utter those syllables with the adoring drawl and the sigh of a lover.  


‘Doctor Lecter?’ Comes the disruptive, dull tone to shatter his trance. Monotonous, laced with annoyance. The indifference, not as cruel as intended insouciant but piercing as unintended ignorance, managed to help him feel the wet in his eyes.  


He tries to capture the gaze, the eyes that once belonged to him.  


But they are murky now. Void with something Hannibal know how much it cost.  


‘I am afraid I was far too immersed in my thoughts, I apologize profusely.’ He straightens himself.   


‘Should I address you as Mr. Graham?’ The rolling of the tongue feels foreign already, and the curt nod meant nothing perhaps.

Hannibal Lecter suppresses his emotions, and introduces himself with an air of profession.  

‘And to my knowledge, no, I doubt we ever met.’ He grins and ignore the hurt on his jaw.  


**Author's Note:**

> hallulawy.tumblr.com if you want to see how I embarrass myself :I


End file.
